paris, france - part I

paris is the most obvious place we would visit after moving to london and, despite the built up anticipation, it did not disappoint one bit.

yes, there are lots of tourists (we discovered that we don't like tourists much even when we're tourists ourselves). yes, the french smoke a lot. and yes, parisians can be...well, parisians. but the city still has a magical quality.

this trip also marked the first time we have both traveled (across borders) by train, which was very exciting. and there's no better train for a first trip than the eurostar, the quintessential TGV.

before we left toronto we explained that part of our decision to move to london was the travel opportunities. the example we gave people was that a weekend in paris sure sounds much more exciting than a weekend in montreal. not to knock montreal or anything (we still like the place), but when you're compared to paris, you don't really stand much of a chance. on top of that, our train ride to paris was actually less expensive than a train from toronto to montreal, and two hours shorter. score.

we arrived early in the morning, discovered that our french was at least adequate in getting t+ tickets for the métro, and set off for our hotel. travel tip: if you visit paris, you may be tempted to just buy a paris visite pass. but if you're only visiting for a few days and know exactly how many trips you need, it may be more cost effective to purchase a carnet of t+ tickets (a discounted pack of 10). they work on buses, the métro and even on the funiculaire at montmartre. keep in mind that paris is quite a dense and quite walkable city (and there are bikes that are free for 1/2 an hour).

after quickly checking in, we got right down to business - the business of eating that is (why else would you visit france?). we reconned the area around our hotel (by porte d'orléans métro) and settled on a cute little brasserie. we selected a breakfast menu and got a lot of food (a menu in france is essentially a set course meal; a 'menu' as we typically understand it is a 'carte', hence the term 'à la carte'), including two drinks each. teresa had a galette, which was ham and egg wrapped in a crêpe-ish thing. she washed it down with a pineapple juice and hot chocolate. caspian had a plat de charcuterie with ham, cheese, an egg and a basket of fresh baguette. it was accompanied by a cup of coffee and another cup of cidre - europeans really do start drinking early!

energized, we set off for our first round of sightseeing and doing all the typical touristy things. our first stop was notre dame. for the record, it is much more impressive in real life than in any cartoon disney can muster. it can also be kind of creepy, what with hundreds of stone faces watching you and the gargoyles lurking above. but still, it is majestic and definitely worth checking out, especially considering it took 300 years to build. like most of the places we 'saw', we didn't go in on account of the long queues, but maybe next time. on a side note, in the square outside the west face, there is a peculiar statue of charlemagne that bears a lot of resemblence to davy jones from disney's pirates franchise.

from there we walked along the north bank of l'île de la cité over to île saint-louis across a bridge that is reputed to be one of the most romantic spots in paris (one of the most romantic cities in the world). that's a lot of romance! we strolled down the main street of the island in search of berthillon. we received a tip that this was some of the best ice cream in paris. unfortunately, the main restaurant was closed, but there were plenty of windows that were more than happy to help us sate our craving. it's no scoop, but the ice cream was excellent and full of rich flavour.

we then journeyed onto la rive droite and sought out the place des vosges for a bit of respite from the tourist hordes. paris is dotted with quaint and picturesque squares and parks that offer quiet and peace in the middle of a busy, bustling city. place des vosges is beautiful and peaceful, with a fountain at each corner and plenty of benches for a rest after all the walking we had done getting around.

our next mission was securing some dinner, but on the way we passed by the bastille, a monument commemorating the french revolution. the thing with paris is you rarely (if ever) lack a good selection in terms of places to eat or drink. the marais is no exception and we were a little overwhemed with the choice! it was hard for us to decide because we didn't really know how good a place would be and were trying to be mindful of the cost. normally, we would try to find a place filled with lots of locals, but we discovered that we eat much earlier than continental europeans, who were still busy with happy hour.

dinner was caspian's first adventure with steak tartare. for those who don't know what it is (the waiter asked us just to make sure we knew what we were ordering), steak tartare is raw steak that has been minced. to add to the effect, it is served with a raw egg. this particular place allowed the diner to season the dish to taste, although other eateries may bring it to the table already prepared.

after dinner, we were both full and decided it would be a good idea to go for a stroll to walk it off. we made our way back to la rive droite and spent the evening strolling along the riverbank arm in arm. there's surprisingly a lot of entertainment along the embankment, from exercise machines to lawn bowling, and even a man-made beach.

we eventually ended up by the louvre and decided to stop by for a look. although, again, we didn't go in, the pyramids look really cool and there are a couple of infinity pools in the square, which was impressive. french renaissance architecture quite lovely to look at and the square where the louvre is located, being a former palace was overflowing with its influence.

by this time, we were thoroughly tired. we knew that we had a lot more sightseeing to do yet and headed back to our hotel to get some much-needed rest and recharge for the day to come.

to be continued...

the gears of war

Cycling in London is quite an adventure. While helmets seem to be optional, a certain level of aggression is mandatory for survival. In Toronto, the cars dominate the road and bikers ride with a lot of caution. Or, in most cases, in mortal fear. In London, the distribution of power is a little more balanced and, while cyclists don’t necessarily have any official right of way, they do have more respect on the road.

There are two exceptions to the general statements made above about cyclists riding in fear in Toronto. Probably more, but we like to keep things simple and only have so much space. First, there are bike couriers, who are a different breed altogether and don’t understand what fear is. The second group consists of people who have grown up in a non-North American society where cycling is a more widespread means of transportation. They’re used to it and aren’t bothered by crazy Toronto drivers.

But back to London. One reason why cyclists have more road-clout is because there are so many of us. Perhaps it’s the inner tree-huggers manifesting themselves, or the cycle to work schemes where the government and some companies subsidise the purchase of a bicycle. Or the increasing ubiquity of cycle lanes and cycle-specific routes. Whatever the reason, cyclists come out in force, and they seem to be everywhere. It’s sometimes unnerving to be sitting on a bus and see a head float past you outside the window, but you get used to it.

Although we have yet to find ourselves in the middle of a peloton, we certainly don’t lack for company while riding. There’s a lot of diversity on the roads too. We’ve seen young and old, male and female, of all nationalities. Because it’s so widespread, cycling is big business. From courier bags and panniers to leg/knee/arm warmers, you can get just about any accessory to accompany you while cycling. Beyond the bike itself, there’s still an endless array of gear you can get and a good number of people willing to sell it all to you. We’re just going to comment on a few.

Obviously there’s the bike itself. We’ve noticed that fixed gear bikes (fixies) and folding bikes are immensely popular here. Quite surprising when you consider that a Brompton, one of the most popular brands of folding bikes, goes for about £600. But people ride all sorts of bikes here, from mountains to hybrids to racers. And it doesn’t matter whether your bike is new or old – we’ve seen some vintage ‘town bikes’ that look like they’re from the 60’s and 70’s still giving faithful service. Caspian is quite happy with the bicycle he picked up here. He found it on gumtree, which is London’s answer to craig’s list, and while it wasn’t super cheap, it was considerably less than going to a bike store and purchasing off the rack. It’s not as sleek and impressive as the bike we left back home, but the vintage Peugeot racer has loads of character (including yellow and green camouflage pattern handlebar tape that’s so bright, it ain’t hidin’ nothin’) and oozes street cred.

While helmets are optional for some, Teresa made sure it wasn't for Caspian. You can’t put a price on safety, after all. He got his online for half price during a sale and he’s quite enamoured with it. He was originally going to bring the one he has at home over, but we didn’t have room. At one point, he had considered wearing it on the plane, but then we weren’t sure whether we’d even need it, depending on how the job search went. But the one he got here is much nicer – top of the line, in fact (Specialized S-Works 2D). It’s so light sometimes he forgets he’s even wearing a helmet. And besides, it doesn’t make him look like a multi-coloured mushroom.

While many don't feel it necessary to get a helmet, it’s absolutely necessary to get a lock. Bicycles get stolen left, right and centre. We have often walked by bikes that have been stripped of most of its parts, from wheels and seats to even components, pedals and cranks. There are apparently tricks to decrease the likelihood of having your bike stolen. Top on the list is to outfit it with streamers and a basket. They reason like this: a bike thief has street cred to worry about and riding a bike with streamers and a basket (with flowers) means that all goes out the window. Having a good lock definitely helps, though. The general rule people go by is to spend at least 10% of the value of the bike on a locking system. Considering Cas’ bike wasn’t that expensive to begin with, that wasn’t going to be hard. There are a gazillion locks from which to choose, and each manufacturer has its own rating system as to how secure the locks are, which can make it quite confusing. To help simplify things, an independent company has undertaken the task of testing and rating locks on a common scale. So you’ll often see graphics on locks that certify it as ‘Sold Secure Gold/Silver/Bronze’. For the most part, the locks are similar in materials and design. The real difference lies in the locking mechanism itself and how sophisticated it is. After much research and agonizing over the decision, Cas settled on a Kryptolok D-lock and cable combo, also bought online. The D-lock is the main element and the cable is an extension that protects the front wheel. It’s got a Sold Secure Silver rating and we got it for 25% off with free delivery, which seems like a reasonable buy. It’s funny to observe the lengths to which people will go to secure their bicycles. We’ve seen people use heavy duty locks normally used for motorcycles and even one guy who wrapped his entire bike in electrical tape so it wouldn’t catch the eye of any thieves.

Lights are the next important and these are also pretty non-negotiable. London is further north in latitude than Toronto. While this is excellent in the summer, with the sun rising at 4:30am and not setting until almost 10:00pm, in the winter, this means a lot more darkness. In addition to lights, cyclists often adorn themselves with jackets and vests of a very pronounced fluorescent colour. London is often known for its sartorial savoir-faire, but this was probably assessed after people had changed out of their cycling gear.

Some cyclists wear facemasks (to filter out the smog). Caspian thinks they make you look like Sub Zero from Mortal Kombat. The facemask gets mixed reviews; sometimes it makes you look hardcore while other times, it makes you look like a wuss. After going a couple of days without it and sucking fumes from the backsides of buses, Caspian decided it doesn’t matter how it makes you look, it certainly beats having blackened lungs. And in the winter, albeit the milder London edition, it may help your face stay warmer.

Then there are mudguards or fenders. In Canada, this isn’t really high on anyone’s priority list because most people normally ride when the weather’s agreeable. Those who don’t probably find inclement weather part of the attraction. In London, a city famous for being rainy, mudguards become a bit more relevant. Some offices are good enough to have shower facilities where people can clean off and change. But some people still opt to ride to work in their suits (and Teresa’s still trying to figure out how girls manage to ride in skirts; Caspian hasn’t figured it out, but he hasn’t been bothered enough to think about it at all either). While it won’t make a difference when it’s actually raining, mudguards can keep you clean(er) and drier when it’s not raining but has recently (meaning the ground is still wet).

Finally, to hammer home the point that cycling is quite pervasive, we thought we’d touch on a more ridiculous side. There are companies that sell clothes – and we’re talking high-end fashion type clothes, here – that have been specifically designed for cycling. Think crisp three-piece suits tailored to stretch as you cycle and formal dress shoes that allow for cleats to be attached. And then there are the helmets for which you can buy covers that look like hats. So if you’re extremely wealthy and, for some odd reason, happen to be cycling through town (maybe your driver has the day off and you couldn’t book a backup in time), you can cruise about looking dapper in a nice suit with a matching fedora. Of course, it goes without saying that you’ll leave the fluorescent vest at home.

wimbledon

We woke up at 5am. That’s right, 5am. We didn’t leave our flat until 6am, but it was still insanely early. We arrived at the queue for Wimbledon at 7am, thanks in part to our newly developed power walking skills (you pick it up quick in London). Once we got there, we received queue cards. Our standing numbers were 7074 and 7107. That means there were over 7,000 people queuing ahead of us already. At 7am in the morning! Total craziness!

It was a good thing we each brought a book to read, some food and water, because the queue didn’t start moving until 11am. Yes, your math is correct – that’s four hours of waiting. By this time, thousands of more people had shown up after us. Suckers. Everyone knows that any number over 7,500 is so last season. J/k Also, we overheard some people asking where the queue was for Monday’s matches. As in, people were showing up early on a Saturday morning to start lining up for a full two days in order to have a chance at scoring tickets on Monday. Now that’s commitment.

To get to the ticket booths, we had to walk on the sidewalk of a major road, through a golf course, over a bridge, and then finally arriving at the gates. You’d think we were going to a castle or something after that trek. But we were greeted, not by adoring masses, but by...security. After the people manning the checkpoint had determined to their satisfaction that we weren’t crazies hell-bent on assassinating Roger Federer, we were allowed to purchase our tickets. We bought grounds passes only (for a mere £20 each), which meant we could watch any matches that were not on Centre Court, Courts 1 or 2 (i.e. the important matches). I guess Venus Williams will have to catch us another time. She was one of the bigger names that were playing that day. Besides, we weren’t bothered enough to fork out the £60 (each!) for show court tickets, even if there were any remaining. There is an interesting system where court ticket holders can return their tickets upon departure so that they can be resold to people who want to catch matches later that day (if any). Tickets are quite reasonably priced at £5, but again, we weren’t willing to wait in any more lines. In addition, with Andy Murray playing, no one was about to give up their tickets.

Of course, the place was packed; the All England Lawn Tennis Club has capacity for about 56,000 people or so on a given day and it seems they were intent on trying to test how true that was. The reason it was packed was because a) it was a Saturday and weekends are always busy in London, b) Andy Murray, Britain’s hometown hope was playing, and c) Wimbledon is always packed. But hey, that’s part of the fun.

The day we attended saw some of the bigger upsets of the tournament, with Kuznetsova and Jankovic bowing out slightly less than gracefully to non-seeds. On the men’s draw, Davydenko was bumped in similar fashion, although some guy named Roddick made it through. Of course, we didn’t watch any of those matches, although we did hear the cheering from outside the stadium. We could have seen some higher profile outside court (#’s 3 & 4) matches, but there were more queues for seats/standing room and after our four hours in the park, we had had enough of waiting for one day. As a result, we attended matches for what we like to think are the Centre Court stars of tomorrow, i.e. the youth tournament. Youth tennis, for those of you who are into such things, is really more about who makes fewer unforced errors than any strategy or who can hit the winners. We watched one match where two poor girls traded breaks all the way up to a tiebreak. That’s 12 straight games where neither girl could hold a serve.

Still, it was a great experience. And that’s what we were really going for in the first place, to soak in the atmosphere and tradition. We strolled through the hallowed grounds (Caspian even wore his Rod Lavers!), sipped on some Pimm’s and munched on some strawberries and cream. Yes, that’s fresh strawberries, lightly dusted with some sugar and drenched with good, old-fashioned double cream. Rich, but tasty. It might sound weird to you, but we thought it should be known that 26,500 kilos of strawberries were consumed at Wimbledon this year. That many people can’t be wrong. We considered getting a glass of champagne to complete the tradition trifecta (the two staple drinks of Wimbledon are champagne and Pimm’s), but the asking price of £12 a glass was just a little too rich for our Canadian dollar-raised blood.

Instead we decided to allocate funds towards some souvenirs instead. One of the matches we attended happened to be next to a booth where they were selling tennis balls that had been used in the tournament. With balls being replaced every 7 games, over 54,200 balls were used during the two weeks of match play. Well, 6 of those balls are now in our possession. One day, we’ll give them to our kids and tell them that they were smacked around by Roger Federer en route to his record 15th Grand Slam title (the balls, not the kids).

Finally, on a bit of a sentimental note, we thought of Caspian’s late grandfather, who was a big fan of tennis. In addition to trying to coach Caspian (whose shoes were apparently always too heavy for proper tennis form) at tennis when he was younger, Caspian’s grandfather was a faithful viewer of the Grand Slam tournaments. We like to think that Wimbledon was his favourite – Caspian even remembers receiving sweatbands in the Wimbledon colours, purple and green – and trust that he would have been pleased with our little tribute.

the holiday is over

It is with mixed feelings that we must announce that Caspian has found a job. First of all, we need to give all praise and thanks to God, because this is clearly a blessing from Him! In this environment, with so many redundancies (translation: layoffs), and with no previous UK experience, the chances seemed bleak. But God has shown us again and again on this adventure that what is impossible with man is possible with Him. He truly has taken care of us every step of the way and this is a great encouragement that our decision to put our trust in Him was a good one; it seems that God will allow us to stay here for a little while longer.

The job is a contract position with American Express and the initial term is for three months, with the possibility of an extension. Caspian is working in the Victoria area, which is in the southwest part of central London. It’s quite close to Westminster and all its iconic landmarks (Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, British Parliament, No. 10 Downing). It’s quite surreal, actually. He has been cycling to work (more on that later) and his commute takes him right by Buckingham Palace! In theory (and this is a big stretch), if the Queen should so deign, she could see him ride by every morning and then again in the afternoon after work! The work has been good so far and Caspian is enjoying the opportunity to learn new things and meet new people. (On top of that, his new boss has been on holiday for two and a half weeks) We’d be lying if we said we weren’t even a bit relieved at having found full-time work, notwithstanding our previous posts about working hard not to lose sight of why we’re here and trusting in God instead of jobs and money.

That’s where the mixed feelings come in. Firstly, there will be a lot less 'free' time, as work will now take over a good 8 hours of the day. Even though he had put a lot of his time towards the job search (looking through postings, writing and rewriting his CV and cover letters, and then rewriting them again, applying), it was nice to be able to control the pace and have time to read, write and enjoy the day. Secondly, travel will become a little more difficult. People had told (or warned?) us to travel as much as possible before we went back to work, as the opportunities to take time off would be few and far between.

And lastly, with the return to full-time work, it will be very easy to get back in the 9-5 groove, and let our focus on God slip to the side. To start taking things for granted again. A timely object lesson for Caspian occurred last week while he was cycling to work. He managed to get himself in a little accident, crashing his bike and taking a little spill. Very luckily, there were no cars around and he managed to escape with no more than a few scrapes and a bruised ego although he did hurt his wrist too, allowing him to test out the NHS – national health service – by getting an x-ray at a local hospital. A cool thing about the system here is that they have a ‘minor injuries unit’ which is basically a non-critical ER (called A&E here). This allows the A&E to focus on severe cases that are of a life-or-death nature and not get bogged down with minor injuries. It’s a pretty good system, but we digress.

The accident happened because he was trying to adjust his bag while still riding, as it had swung over to the wrong side. He took his eye off the road and didn’t notice a pothole in the road. The lesson was that it’s really important to stay focused on what you’re supposed to be doing. As much as we tend to get sidetracked with less important things and even try to do a few things at the same time, we have to stay focused on the most important things. In Caspian’s case, it was simply riding the bike. And it’s not like Caspian’s an inexperienced rider, either. Riding a bike is something that he’s quite comfortable at doing. But it goes to show that if you’re not careful or focused, even the things that come easily to you can go wrong.

We’ve grown a lot these past few months and have definitely gotten better at putting God’s perspective at the centre of everything we do. But, as comfortable as we’re getting with this, we can still fall if we don’t stay focused. And we mustn’t forget the lessons we’ve learned along this journey, of faith and contentment, nor the things we’ve felt God leading us to do, such as spend more time with the Bible and writing down/sharing the thoughts He reveals to us.

We hope and pray that we’ll stay focused. And we’ll start by again giving praise and thanks to God. As one of our previous posts was titled, there’s much to celebrate!

(The images above are of a pen that Caspian found at his new desk. Quite fittingly, on one side is the HSBC logo and on the other is the American Express logo.)

happy birthday scoop!

A few weeks ago was Scoop’s second birthday! For those of you who don’t remember reading from our blog before, Scoop sells the best gelato in the world (albeit our little world =P)! To commemorate this special occasion, the owner hosted a demonstration and tasting of molecular gelato frozen with liquid nitrogen at -192 degrees Celsius. Sounds amazing? It was!!

We arrived at Scoop at about 3pm (we had to leave the pub in the middle of the British Lions vs. South Africa rugby match – Cas was quite torn by the decision), and were just in time to witness the owner make chocolate gelato with liquid nitrogen. Just when we thought the taste of the regular Scoop gelato was beyond any words, the gelato made with liquid nitrogen totally kicks the butt of the regular gelato!

The owner explained why using liquid nitrogen is so different from using conventional methods of making gelato. Making gelato with the regular ice cream maker takes about 10-12 minutes per batch. However, using liquid nitrogen, the process takes only two minutes! Due to the rapid freezing, the crystal grains are smaller, giving the gelato a creamier texture, and allowing one to get the same texture by using less milkfat (or even better texture by using the same amount!). However, such ice crystals will grow very quickly via the processes of recrystallization thus eliminating the original benefits unless steps are taken to inhibit ice crystal growth. Translation? Enjoy right away!

We even had the pleasure of going back to Scoop a second time. It wasn’t our fault! We went back to the rugby match at the pub, and told a friend of ours just how crazy good the liquid nitrogen gelato was, and she wanted us to take her there to try it for herself! So we took her to Scoop, and upon trying her first spoonful, she said, and we quote, “I could die happy right now!”

When we went back to Scoop the second time, the owner was making pistachio gelato with liquid nitrogen! It was SO SO YUMMY! Cas described it as like eating a handful of pistachios and then drinking a gallon of cream...but way better! Mmm...SO GOOD!!

This was truly an unforgettable experience! We can't wait until next year!

celebrity

No one is immune from celebrity culture these days. Sadly, not even us. It’s not necessarily the A-listers, although there are many that pass through (or reside in) London. London certainly loves its celebs – there are usually double page spreads in all the free dailies. Jude Law and Kevin Spacey are permanent residents. They’re always filming some latest iteration of Harry Potter around the city. The Beckhams are always popular fare. They even care about pseudo-celebs of the Paris Hilton variety, socialites with no claim to fame other than the fact that they’re socialites. For those of you who want an example, those aforementioned dailies often contain updates on the goings on in the life of Peaches & Pixie Geldof (that’s right, our reaction was ‘Who??’ as well) or Alexa Chung (again, who?!).

All of this may seem distasteful to you, but the truth of the matter is, there’s probably someone out there that you revere on a celebrity level. Whether they’re actually famous is irrelevant. No one else may have heard of them or care, but you’d be thrilled to be in any kind of proximity to them. It could be a professor, a scientist, a philanthropist, an author, a poet, an artist, an athlete, or even a cartoon character (oh the days when meeting Mickey was a dream come true). Deep inside, you know this to be true.

So why the discourse on celebrities? Well, one of these past weeks, we restarted our visits to various London churches by attending a service at HTB. HTB stands for Holy Trinity Brompton, and is a church that is located just down the street from Harrod’s. Like many churches in England, the service is held in a wonderfully historic building. Some among you may know that HTB is the church where the Alpha course was started. If you didn’t, but had happened to see some of the video clips, you would have figured it out when a familiar character (i.e. Nicky Gumbel) came out to lead the prayers.

Before this, though, we were treated to a wonderful time of worship in song. And wouldn’t you know that the worship leader happened to be Tim Hughes, who is the worship pastor at HTB. Tim Hughes is a worship leader and songwriter. We happen to sing a few of his songs (Unchanging, Everything, Here I am to Worship) at church in Toronto, although we didn’t include any at our wedding (sorry Tim). Now, being involved in worship ministry ourselves, we know you’re not supposed to be distracted with anything the worship team does or, in this case, who is actually on the team; the focus is supposed to be on God and Jesus. Of course, that sort of goes out the window when you’re worshipping on a regular Sunday with Tim Hughes.

Remarkably, though, it wasn’t really all that much of a distraction. In fact, Teresa wasn’t even sure it was him, other than to notice that the leader had a really great voice. We were both able to worship very freely and focus on God. Perhaps it was because most of the songs were familiar to us. Perhaps it was because the worship in song was in a musical style to which we were accustomed. But we felt completely free from worrying about our surroundings and were able to let go in a way that we haven’t been able to since arriving in London, and that includes our visits to Hillsong London.

So now we’re going to go into a little more detail including maybe some technical stuff for those of you who are involved in worship ministry. We sang songs we were familiar with. Some were written by Tim but there were others that weren’t too, including Mighty to Save (which we did sing at our wedding). They weren’t all medleys, but there were a couple of completely seamless transitions; the ones that weren’t complete medleys were still very smooth. The team consisted of Tim who led while playing an acoustic guitar, a bass guitar, a keyboardist, a drummer, two backup vocalists and a trio of strings (2 violins and 1 viola by our reckoning). While this may seem like a fairly full team, it’s not something that is unimaginable for our church to pull together (particularly given the popularity of string instruments among Chinese Canadian parents).

The cool thing that we noticed was that, even though they had a well-known worship leader, the set wasn’t perfect. Don’t get us wrong; it was still very well executed. But the drummer sped up every now and then. The string trio had its own leader (first violin, we suppose) and they sort of did their own thing; they faced each other in a closed circle and didn’t seem to pay too much attention to what everyone else was doing. And the two backup vocalists seemed nervous and were unsure of what to do at times in terms of body language.

But that’s great, you see. While we all want our worship sets to be perfect because our God is perfect and worthy of it, we never really get it right. Sometimes we’re not even close. And then you watch a Hillsong DVD maybe, or listen to some Chris Tomlin or Tim Hughes tracks, and (as the discouragement settles in) wonder how they do it. The truth is they don’t. Not all the time anyway. And God’s grace covers that; sometimes we think that’s just how He’d have it. We’ve just aptly finished reading 2 Corinthians 4:7 in Bible study. The core of worship is about showering our praises on God. Not Tim Hughes, not us, not any worship leader. And sometimes, when we miss an intro or play a wrong chord or sing a wrong note, it’s a gentle reminder that it’s not about us at all. And when we realise that, then we’ve come closer to what true worship really is, and God is pleased with that more than any number of 'perfect' worship sets.

Joel Houston: check. Tim Hughes: check. I wonder what Martin Smith and Matt Redman are up to...j/k.

As a note, we have noticed that the English tend to sing songs in ridiculously high keys. For the musically inclined among you, our worship team typically plays sets in the keys of D and E (our two favourite keys); most songs here are sung in A or B. Eek indeed. We’re either going to come back with Mariah-esque vocal ranges or no voice at all. =/

camden market

Our study of London’s market continues. The feature this week: Camden Market. Camden Market is actually four (or five or six) markets in one. It’s in north London, by the canal system. There are two satellite markets away from the main action, one on Buck Street and the other on Inverness Street. You’ll know you’re in the area when you feel this sudden sensation of not being able to control where you go, since you’ve been absorbed by the massive mob of people walking on the street. Ride the tide that will carry you across a bridge over the canal and into Camden Lock Market. You won’t miss it – the location is marked very prominently by a massive sign painted across a bridge. This market is, as the name suggests, a market that is set up right next to the lock system that allows boats to traverse the canal system. On the weekend, you’ll likely see a few narrowboats going through the locks.

When you first walk into Camden Lock Market, you think ‘Is this it??’ because it really doesn’t look like much. We seriously thought that we’d be done in 15 minutes and were wondering what all the fuss was about. But then we made a turn and then a few more stalls popped up. Then we made another turn and went into a building that housed even more stalls. This in turn passed into another section in an adjacent building with still more stalls, including one that sold this really cool sand that ripples when you burn a candle in it – the shopkeeper had filled peppers and pineapples with it – and another one that sold cufflinks and other jewellery made out of computer parts. Then we were met with a sign saying there were more shops downstairs. Downstairs? This place has a downstairs? Camden Lock Market definitely has more than meets the eye.

When we got downstairs, we were greeted with the delicious aromas wafting up and realised we had reached the ‘food court’ of the market. As with the other markets, there is a diversity of different cultures represented. This food market eventually gives way to other sections of the market, aptly called the Catacombs, as you feel like you are walking into a tunnel. The stalls in this section are mainly peddling clothing, of the Goth, punk, and vintage genres. Among the other oddities, we noticed two giant robot statues and a store run by an elderly and very british lady that sold sweets and, oddly, dvds of anime series (including Samurai Champloo!). There were a series of food stalls that started off as Mexican, then Chinese, then Indian, Moroccan, Thai and Indonesian, all apparently run by the same Chinese family – there were no breaks behind the counters and every stall seemed to sell some version of chow mein!

The market then turns into the section known as the Stables – aptly named since the stalls are set up in...um...stalls that used to house horses. The whole area used to be a horse hospital and the stables housed horses undergoing rehabilitation and other treatments. The whole area was very cool and lots of antiques and exotic imports like furniture and home furnishings were on display. Not to mention the many and sometimes giant bronze statues of horses.

Camden Market is not very easy to navigate through, and you’ll often find yourself backtracking or realising that you’ve just (unintentionally) walked in a complete circle. At one point, we felt like we were in one of those visual illusion drawings because we went down a ramp only to end up on the same level we had started at. I suppose we just didn’t realise that we were steadily walking up a ramp. Despite all that, Camden Market is quite good fun, as getting lost can sometimes be.

Unfortunately, the brownie entry from Camden Market was not up to the high standard set by the other markets. Now if we can only convince Flour Power to trade at Camden then we’d have an untouchable winner for our favourite place in London!